


Lies about Breakfast

by PrettyMessedUpSituation (MarcelinesNightosphere)



Series: Lazy Sunday [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bedroom Sex, Bottom Dean, Fluff and Smut, Healthy Relationships, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Morning Sex, Teasing, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 15:02:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2313755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcelinesNightosphere/pseuds/PrettyMessedUpSituation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes Cas up to ask him what he wants for breakfast. And by breakfast, he means "let's have sex."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lies about Breakfast

   “You want something to eat?” Dean asked Cas. He looked over at his man still trying to wake up, hair sticking up all over the place. Dean rolled on his side, propping his head up.

   “What time is it?” Cas murmured, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

   “Early,” Dean answered. “Around eight.”

   Cas groaned. “Why are you awake? We were up so late.” He buried his face in his pillow.

   Dean smiled. He nudged the back of Cas’s thigh with his knee. “Round two?” Cas didn’t move.

   “I thought you were suggesting breakfast,” came his muffled voice. He couldn’t contain the smile in his voice, even when practically smothering himself in bedding.

   “That too.” Dean picked at pieces of Cas’s hair, trying and failing to pet it back into place.

   Cas rolled to his back and sleepily slapped Dean’s hand away. “Leave it alone!”

   “Hey I’m just trying to help. You look like a Sex Pistol.”

   Cas squinted one eye, still trying to wake up. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

   “I’ll sex your pistol.” Dean winked and looked pleased with himself. 

   “ _Dean_ ,” Cas chastised. “Really?”

   “What? Okay, sorry. That _was_ pretty terrible.”

   Cas let his head fall toward Dean. “So what are you making me for breakfast?”

   Dean leaned over Cas, sliding his hand into Cas’s palm, interlacing their fingers. He kissed his forehead, cheek, and nose, listing breakfast items in between kisses. “Eggs, bacon, pancakes, potatoes.” He kissed his jaw, his throat, his shoulder. “Blueberry muffins, sausage, waffles, French toast.”

   “Now you’re just listing every breakfast item you could possibly make.”

Dean’s lips lingered at Cas’s chest, laughing softly. He rested his forehead on Cas, pausing his attempt at being cute for a moment. His thumb slowly traced the backside of Cas’s hand.

   “True,” he responded, picking his head back up. Dean kissed Cas right above his heart. “But you can have anything you want.”

   Cas gave him a sleepy smile. “Well I think what I want is you.”

   “Good, because that’s, uh, kind of what I was going for here.”

Dean’s smile lit up his face. He leaned forward, meeting Cas’s lips gently. Cas smiled through their kisses, an infectious sense of happiness that Dean caught immediately. Before long their smiles turned to laughs. Dean had to sit up and adjust himself, straddling Cas.

Cas yawned.

   “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I boring you?” Dean said, trying to sound offended. 

   Cas finished his long yawn and laughed. “Shut up.” He punched Dean’s thigh.

   “Ow, fucker.” Dean punched his arm in retaliation.

   Cas’s eyes went wild to match his bedhead. “You want to call me a fucker?” He grasped onto Dean’s thighs, pulling Dean down onto him, and rolled his hips slowly. “I’ll show you a fucker.”

   Dean felt Cas growing hard under him. He looked up to the ceiling, his hands on his hips, and heaved a false exasperated sigh. “So menacing. I guess you _could_ do that. I was kind of looking forward to breakfast.”

Cas reached over to his nightstand and pumped lube into his hand. Dean raised up off of Cas just enough to let him stroke on the lube. He took a turn running his hand over Cas, then moved to his own cock, using the slick remnants from Cas to glide his hand over himself. Getting caught up in his motions, just pleased to feel Cas’s skin between his thighs and Cas's hand rhythmically brushing against the bottom of Dean's ass with each stroke, Dean was taken by surprise when he felt the pressure of Cas pushing him down slowly. Dean relaxed, letting himself slide down, Cas filling him slowly. Cas stopped him halfway and bucked up his hips, making Dean throw himself forward, catching his body over Cas with his left arm.

   “What are you doing?” Dean asked.

   “You’re the one that called me a fucker,” Cas said with an evil grin.

He braced Dean’s shoulders with his hands, pushing Dean’s body back when his hips came up to meet the back of Dean’s thighs. He rolled slightly from side to side, rocking left and right just enough to keep the angles changing, finding that sweet spot that made Dean utter a moan that sounded like he had reached the height of pleasure in a single movement. He pushed harder, bucked faster, Dean giving up on holding himself steady. He collapsed onto Cas’s chest, his face turned to the side, letting out pleasurable moans. Cas held Dean’s shoulders with their bodies hugged against one another, Cas’s forehead wet with sweat. He fucked Dean harder and deeper until all he could discern from the noises coming from Dean’s mouth were obscenities and Cas’s name. Dean came, warmth spreading in between their bodies as Cas just kept going. Dean gasped for breath when he finally stopped coming. He looked Cas in the eyes, his mouth still open in response to the unbelievable fucking Cas was giving him. Cas lost himself in the intensity of the stare, those green eyes bearing down on him, begging him to keep going, telling him how good it felt. Cas was on the brink and about to pull out when Dean pressed the side of his scruffy face against Cas’s and whispered, “ _Come for me_.”

That was all it took. Cas was done. He moaned in Dean’s ear as he came, biting down on him gently at the crook of his neck, his fingers raking down Dean’s back. He saw spots as his vision slowly returned, Dean’s face right in front of his. Dean pressed his lips to Cas’s forehead then kissed his lips before resting his head on his chest, still unmoving from his position, ass in the air.

   “I can’t move,” Dean said, his words distorted from half of his face being pressed into Cas’s sternum.

   Cas’s eyes were already heavy again. “We can just lay here and fall asleep like this.”

   “No,” Dean asserted with disgusted laughter. “We need to get in the shower. That was bad. I’m sorry.” He was afraid to move, knowing just how bad the mess must be.

   “Shower, then breakfast?” Cas asked hopefully, tilting his chin down to look at Dean.

   Dean looked up at Cas. “Shower, then breakfast,” he repeated. “Then a nap.”

   “I like this plan.” Cas smiled, petting Dean’s hair.

Dean’s hand reached up, feeling for and finally landing on the top of Cas’s head, ruffling his crazy bedhead into something even worse – but to Dean it was perfect.

 


End file.
